Death Flies a Broken Path
by Centrau guardian
Summary: It was quite an unusual moment for Harry to find out he was a dragon; just seconds after he'd crashed into the ground to his not-quite demise. But Death has a strange need to listen to its Master in ways no one could predict.SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

It's the ground that will kill him, he realises, as he slips through the air. There's something strangely magical about his fall, something that keeps him able to breath, stabilises his organs and prevents his bones from cracking under the pressure. It's probably one of the features of being a wizard, he muses, remembering all the times his body has held itself together against extreme odds. His own magic must be preventing his body from failing him, from being torn asunder by the winds he feels whipping past.

He doubts it can stand up to his approaching collision with earth though. Perhaps it can keep him in one piece under a building, sustaining pressure, but the sudden smash of force will likely be too quick for it to do much about it.

What a way for the boy who lived to die, he snickers, watching the world race towards him.

It's not like he could have done anything, could have prevented it in any way. His friends had died long before, slaughtered in the war by monsters and men who might as well have been monsters. He'd watched most of them die, seen Hermione's hair slowly losing its curls as the blood soaked it and weighed it down, watched as Ron had fought desperately and valiantly, some part of him screaming to follow Hermione even as the green spell silently took him. Neville had surprised them all, showing sudden unyielding strength as he lead the hunting death eaters away from the rest of them, sacrificed his own life to lead them into the forest and into the patch of murderous plants he'd cultivated there. Ginny was vicious with her spells, mixing dark and light together and ruthlessly tearing apart any death eaters who dared attack her until Voldemort himself had been forced to face her. He'd been so much stronger already though, so much more lethal in everything he did. There was no mocking laughter, no torture beforehand. He simply opened the ground at her feet and let the earth swallow her. Then walked straight on without even a moment's consideration. Draco had dug at the soil for hours, using magic at first and then clawing it away with his hands until his fingers bled and his nails were left in the ground. He'd simply curled up there in the hole, and drifted away.

No one who had touched Harry's life in a friendly way had survived Voldemort's casual culling. He'd not even gone out of his way to kill them, just waited for them all to come to him and then dispatched them simply and almost instantly.

He'd decided to be a little more flamboyant with Harry's death though. Decided to make a statement out of it, even. Harry could imagine all the metaphors people would use; "his long fall from grace" perhaps? He chuckled soundlessly in the rush of air and sighed softly.

Being dropped from the far reaches of the sky into the middle of London was a rather dramatic announcement of victory he supposed. There was a part of him that even found a dark amusement in it, remembering how much he loved to fly. He hadn't had much of a chance once the war had begun in earnest and people had started dying all around him. The first time he had gotten to fly in years and it would most definitely be the last as well.

He was glad it was a rather amazing flight. Although he used that term loosely, considering it was much more of a very long drop after all. He didn't exactly have much control over it.

It was wonderful to feel the wind against his skin again though. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine he was diving, like some bird of prey, or even a dragon, wing wrapped close, coiling his strength together until the precise moment where he should snap his wings wide and slow his descent before the ground loomed too close. He sighed deeply, holding the idea in his mind, imagining every aspect of it; perhaps a long tail streaming banner-like behind him, spikes adoring his skull and spine, long talons ending in wicked points that glistened as they shot out towards his prey.

He was still imagining it when he hit the ground.

And kept on falling.

He'd felt it; the sharp impact of something solid that started on his skull and shivered up his body. Startled, he opened his eyes and blinked around him, not quite sure what to make of what he was seeing.

He was still falling, still slipping down towards the earth, but now the ground below him was coated with trees and he was again incredibly high above it all. There were mountains in the distance, clouds wrapped around its tip and a small scattering of houses clinging to its side in an odd trail, leading to a massive walled area, with great towers and buildings surrounding it but never entering within the walls.

It wasn't hard to see why when you could see the masses of dragons curled around each other in the grassy area between the walls. He gasped and flung his arms out in shock.

There was a brief moment before he realised his wings had swung out as well.

The air caught in them instantly, wrenching him out of the fall in a painful twist that sent him flailing in all directions. The great spines between them quivered with the strain and with an agonising crack one of them snapped under the pressure, causing the wing to flutter uselessly behind him as he free-falled towards the earth again. He didn't understand it, couldn't possibly wrap his mind around the fact that something was utterly and irrevocably different in that brief moment, but some instinct kept his other wing flapping desperately in the air, slowing him only slightly and sending him spinning round in massive circles through the sky. He barely registered the shape swiftly winging its way towards him as he screamed for help and heard a terrified roar instead of his own voice.

The black shape seemed to understand him, or perhaps it had already been on its way to aid him as it snapped its wings more furiously, lashing towards him and folding its wings slightly to stoop towards him. It started to attempt to match his fall, trying to swing into the circles he was weaving, but unable to twist its body in the way necessary to meet him. It took a split second for Harry to realise that the circles would prevent the other dragon from saving him, and only a second more to convince his wing to furl into his body, limp and tired from the desperate struggles.

He fell more swiftly now, but more in a direct line, easily matched by the black dragon above him that was somehow falling so much faster. It was larger than him, and somehow more aerodynamic in shape, with his wings lying so much flatter against his body as he determinedly raced towards Harry.

It was only a couple of seconds before he reached him, but the ground was racing swiftly towards them and Harry despaired at the other dragon being able to slow him in time. Even as it came down on top of him, curling his forelegs around Harry's shoulders, hind legs around his back quarters and wrapping his tail sinuously around Harry's one and bellowed in his ear to hold on and not panic, he didn't believe for a second they would both make it through.

Until the dragons wings snapped open.

They were so much stronger than Harry's, he could tell almost instantly. The spines and stretched webbing between them built for the pressures of gales and tornadoes in a way Harry's obviously weren't. The moment they unfurled Harry could feel the sudden slowing in descent, the way the dragon above him angled them for a more sloped descent that bought them much-needed seconds of time. Air was torn from his lungs as they whipped back in the air, jerked by the sudden pressure in a way that should have broken both their ribs, he thought. Even as they slowed dramatically, the great black dragon above keening and straining with the effort of halting both their descents, Harry knew they were still going to hit the ground, but at a speed that would only hurt them, not maim or kill them.

He clenched his eyes together as the ground approached at a still alarming speed, and braced himself for the impact, hoping that at least he could take the brunt of it away from the other dragon.

It still hurt that almost nothing he'd felt before when he smacked into the hard earth. The dragon above him had disengaged in the last second so as not to crush Harry below him, and instead hit the ground just ahead of him, tucking his wings in just in time to save them as he rolled with the force of his fall. Harry panted with the sharp pains sweeping over most of his body as he tried to push them back enough to check if the other dragon was okay.

The groan of another voice and the flap of shaky wings he heard was highly reassuring. It would have been terrible to be saved by this dragon and to have killed him in the process. He let out a long groan of his own, shocking himself with how deep and growling it was.

He was pretty sure he'd be shocked at the fact he was a dragon, when he managed to recover from the shock of the fall itself.

A rustle and slow crunching footsteps warned him that the other dragon was making its painful way towards him. It snorted once above him, then pushed its nose against his cheek, worry and anxiety filling its voice.

"Are you injured? Oh, do say you are not too badly injured! I shouldn't like to have you die just as soon as we have met!"

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of it, as he slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the peering eyes above him. They glowed with fear, his chest still heaving with the sheer effort of what he'd just done even as he worried about Harry instead of himself.

"I," Harry choked, startled at the low tone of his own voice, and feeling his lungs protest at using air for anything but breathing at the moment. "I…"

"Pray, do not say a word! I should not have asked you to in the first place. Rest here for a moment, I will fetch aid for you!"

And with a few experimental flaps of his wings he launched slowly into the air, before carefully winging his way past the treetops and towards the direction Harry thought the town he had seen lay in.

It was with a great sigh and a deep feeling of relief that Harry finally passed out, still not quite aware that he was suddenly a dragon.

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Well, wasn't exactly expecting to write this today! I was inspired by a couple of very good Harry Potter/Temeraire cross-over fics that are on this site by the author esama, and apparently in the midst of writing a "Harry falls to his death"-fic Temeraire decided to change things up a little... X3 I'm not even sure whether I'll continue this or just leave it as it is. I know it's written to have a continuation, but it was such an abrupt plotbunny that hit me out of nowhere that I'm not sure if it'll decide to stick around. We'll see! Apologies for lots of bad writing and poor grammar, but if anyone reads this I hope you enjoy it!


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! You guys are amazing! I couldn't quite believe the response this got so quickly! The wonderful reviews and all the lists this story was added to made me determined to carry this story on, even if the plot bunny was a little surprised at being so well-liked too! X3 I'm pulling together a plotline slowly, but the second chapter demanded to be written, so here it is! This story is officially SPOILERIFIC for Harry Potter book seven, and also an AU, with a different ending from the books. It will also contain spoilers for the Temeraire books up to and including The Black Powder Wars, and will potentially continue on after that depending on how exactly I decide to progress with the plot. This chapter uses the scenes of the final battle from the Harry Potter movies for reference, as it's been far more recently that I've watched them than since I read the last book... *sheepish grin*

This chapter contains angst, just to warn you.

This chapter may appear on emails twice, as I edited it to fix some details, sorry about that!

I apologise for any mistakes and poor writing, but hope you enjoy the unexpected second chapter!

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Chapter Two

The nudging was getting unbearable. The haze of sleep curdled in his mind, shaken apart with every gentle push on his cheek. He grumbled and flailed a wing at the thing poking him before curling his neck round and shoving his head under the other one.

It took him a few sleepy moments and the annoying sounds of laughter and rebukes before he realised there was something distinctly wrong with that movement.

Blinking sleep-ridden eyes, he stared at the strange leathery cloth that was blocking the sunlight he could feel warming him. There was something slightly unsettling about it, something he couldn't quite put his mind on. Gazing at it curiously, he began to untuck his arm to reach up and touch it experimentally.

He froze in panic. There was something horribly wrong with his arm. It bent in all the wrong places; his shoulder rotated unnaturally, resulting in the most comfortable resting position being underneath his body, rather than beside it. His mind couldn't quite accept it, couldn't quite wrap around the idea that this strange thing was actually his arm.

But when he cautiously tried to move it again the awkwardly shaped limb moved instead.

The insistent nudge came at exactly the wrong moment.

Snarling with fear he whipped his body to its feet, curling his arms into a defensive position in front of him.

Immediately his body overbalanced and began to tip over, struggling to accept the two-legged position it wasn't designed for. He staggered back a few paces, barely noticing the cries and shouts of alarm as a great black shape raced towards him, spines raised threateningly as it grabbed for him and forced him down on all fours. He struggled desperately, keening horribly as he struggled to understand what on earth was going on. With a gasp of shock he caught his first real look at the shape holding him down carefully and stopped struggling in his amazement.

It was huge. So much bigger than he was. With scales as black as night coating the entirety of its body, glossy in the midday sun. The large ruff around its neck was starting to soothe back against its throat as he stopped fighting, but the watchful quality of the brilliant blue eyes staring at him warned him that he would not be escaping its hold until he'd proven himself trustworthy.

"Indeed," it snorted at him suddenly, making him yelp in surprise. "I do hope you are not planning on causing such a commotion again youngling. You nearly stepped on my crew and I would be most displeased if you did that."

Harry wasn't quite sure how to reply to that. Never mind the sentence itself; the fact that a dragon, as the creature must most certainly be, was talking to him coherently, and even scolding him like a schoolchild was a rather difficult thing to get his head round. He gaped up at it for a few moments more, trying to form some semblance of a reply.

"Perhaps he is feral?" Called a voice from nearby, drawing Harry's eyes away almost gratefully at the distraction. A man in a bottle-green overcoat stood at the edge of the clearing, looking suspiciously between him and the dragon above him.

"I should think not," the black beast grumbled, turning its head to look at the man. Harry trembled as he was released from the piercing gaze and tried again to organise his thoughts and attempt to figure out just what exactly had happened. "He began to speak with me before I returned for help. I simply can not fathom why he would behave in the way he did." With that the beast switched his focus back to Harry, rebuke in his voice as he spoke, "If I were to set you free do you think you could refrain from trying to step on my crew this time?"

Harry blinked up at the questioning eyes and nodded his head once, not quite trusting himself to speak just yet. With a snort, the dragon slowly and carefully lifted its hand away, moving back so as to give him space, but not so far so it couldn't restrain him again if there was need. It stood there watching him anxiously, coiled strength in every line of its sinewy body.

Tentatively, Harry began to rise from where he'd been pushed to the ground. His arms still bent in a way he wasn't quite comfortable with but the four-legged position came more naturally than when he had tried to stand on his feet. Nervously he looked up at the dragon, then glanced round to discover what had happened to his body.

It was the wings he first noticed. One of them tucked neatly into his body, while the one on his left curled awkwardly, the pang of pain he'd managed to completely forget in his panic shooting through him now instead. He winced with the ache, immediately judging it to be either broken or dislocated, though he wouldn't know quite which until he'd had a chance to take a closer look at it.

He blinked. Well, he thought. Apparently I have wings now.

With a thump he fell to sit on his hind legs. It was rather easier to accept that they belonged to him with he could feel the pain radiating from one of them. Turning his head to look more closely at the other one, he willed it to stretch experimentally, and was rewarded with a shimmer of deep emerald as it spread.

I'm green, he thought dully, staring at the dark black stripes that ran across the leathery skin between each of the five spines. Looking back at the curiously watching dragon in front of him, he cleared his throat with a delicate growl.

Rather calmly, he thought, he inquired of the creature, "I'm a dragon, aren't I?"

It blinked at him, then paced slightly closer to peer down the length of his rather small body. "Yes, I do believe you are," it told him, manner-of-factly, nodding its head as it lay down on the ground, tucking its tail neatly around itself. "Certainly not a breed I have ever seen before I am afraid, but you are most definitely a dragon."

"And a rather handsome one at that," spoke an amused voice, causing Harry's head to whip round to stare at the green-clad man smiling at him. His face was kind, though weathered from sea and wind by the looks of it. He was fairly young still, looking to be in his late twenties to early thirties at most, Harry thought, as he watched him curiously. "Though where you arrived from I am sure I have no idea. You appeared to simply fall from the sky."

Harry looked up, remembering the long fall as the man brought his attention back to it. Something had happened when he hit the ground, he decided, something that had resulted in him coming here instead of being crushed horribly when he landed. Obviously he hadn't died as he had thought he would, or else he wouldn't be sitting here wondering how he'd been turned into a dragon of all things.

He wasn't quite sure whether to be grateful or not. He'd been ready to die. Following his friends to the next great adventure had felt like a relief. He'd been tired of it all; the bloodshed, the death, the constant running. It had been five years since Voldemort had attacked Hogwarts by the time he'd finally been caught. Five years where everyone he knew and loved had been tortured or murdered, until there was nothing left to Harry but the tired need to keep fighting. Every day had been a wearying struggle to keep moving, to keep trying to get just one step ahead. The hallows had brought him back to life only to watch as their encouraged resurgence had failed under the sheer might of Voldemort's army and the strength he wielded. It had been McGonagoll who had forced them to retreat in the end, rallying the last of the professors around her and slowly gathering up the children and pulling them away from the battle, carrying them away if they had to, running with them back to the room of requirement and beseeching them to find a way to defeat Voldemort and only return to face him then. The members of the Order had formed a barrier in front of the doors to the school, holding off the dark army to buy them time to escape.

Harry had lead them back through the secret passageway to Abeforth's, guilt and the sting of defeat roiling inside him, even as he knew he was buying them one last chance. It was hard to accept the decision to retreat with the sounds of crying and mourning of his friends behind him. He'd never felt the pain of failure quite like at that moment.

They'd known there was no other choice. For so long afterwards they'd hoped to avenge the death of the people they'd left behind that day. All of them had fought with a renewed ferocity, people who had never thought of harming another human being before using spells that tore their enemy limb from limb. They'd all changed with the defeat at hogwarts, become vicious and angry, desperate to live and win in a way they'd never quite felt before. It was as if watching the Order and their professors sacrifice their lives so that they could flee the battle had unlocked something deep and visceral inside each and every one of them, rendering them willing to blacken their own souls to bring an end to Voldemort's regime.

Moaning, Harry curled in on himself in despair. It was his fault they'd lost in the end. He'd been so sure they could win when he'd returned to life, utterly convinced this was the moment he'd finally defeat him.

It had been a stray blasting spell that had prevented him from managing it. The magic had shattered the rocks beneath him, throwing him out of the lock between their wands. It had been all the chance Voldemort had needed to escape into the midst of his army, stealing a wand from one of his death eaters and using it to cast devastating curses. Just that one stray spell had swung the battle completely, a tiny action that had left Harry dazed and being pulled away by Hermione and Ron as they struggled to get him back to his feet while defending him from all sides. McGonagoll had stepped in front of them, fighting off the death eaters who had jumped at the potential chance to kill the boy who lived. She'd defeated them, then turned around and ordered the three of them to withdraw, telling them they would have another chance if they only survived.

They'd protested at first, but she'd simply walked over and bent down to look Harry straight in the eye. "You're our best hope," she'd told him. "But there'll be no one to defeat him if you all end up dying here."

Harry had been too dazed by the blasting spell to argue coherently, and she had simply cast a flotation spell on him and marched him through the great doors of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione gallantly protecting them from either side. She'd looked at them once they reached the entrance and made them vow to protect Harry and take him away from the castle. Satisfied she'd whirled round in an elegant flurry of robes, and strode out to round up the last few professors and tasked them to get the remaining children inside.

There had been something powerful in the moment when she finally closed the doors and locked them inside. Harry had recovered enough to struggle, held back by his friends as the professors turned their backs and walked back on to the battlefield. It was only when the doors finally slid shut with a final thump that seemed to shake the very walls themselves that he stopped fighting the arms around him, stopped trying to reach the men and women outside, protecting him and the other student of Hogwarts until the very end.

With a start, Harry finally noticed the other dragon curling up around him, spreading his wing over him protectively. "I do not know why," it spoke softly, worry in its voice, "But I think you have been sad for far longer than any being should have to be."

Harry gazed up at it for a moment, then ducked his head as he felt tears come to his eyes. It was strange to be cared for in this way, after so long of being alone, and it touched him deeply. To have barely even met this dragon and still have it worry for him made him feel warm in a way he hadn't since before the fall of Hogwarts. A part of him felt guilty for accepting it. Disgust at his ability to be comforted after failing so badly in the war threatened to overtake him, before a deep fatigue blanketed it. Sighing, he sunk into the embrace of the other dragon, damaged wing held tenderly away as he soaked up the heat from the others body.

"Thank you," he whispered, and felt an answering rumble from deep within the black chest he leant against.

"You are most welcome," it replied, then nudged him carefully with its nose. "But I fear we must not remain like this for much longer. Everyone is greatly worried about you and we simply must have them look at your wing before the damage is too settled."

Harry groaned and leaned away from the other dragon, watching nervously as it lifted its wing away from him. The green-coated man stood just outside the curve of the black tail around Harry, and quickly clambered over it when the wing was removed.

"Please little one, we do not mean to hurt you," he spoke beseechingly, stopping just short of where Harry sat, "Temeraire speaks truthfully. There is a chance we can prevent your wing from being too badly damaged, but we must know what is wrong with it now."

Harry blinked at him blankly, then turned to look at the other dragon. "Your name is Temeraire?"

"Oh dear!" The other dragon gasped, "I have been most remiss! No wonder we made you nervous! Indeed, I am called Temeraire and this is my captain, Lawrence."

It was a relief dragons didn't seem to be able to blush, Harry thought, as he almost giggled at the comical expression of embarrassment on Temeraire's face.

Lawrence cleared his throat, drawing both the dragons gaze back to him. "Pray tell, do you have a name yourself?" he asked, a strange look passing between him and Temeraire before they watched him avidly.

The wording made Harry pause. It seemed an unusual way to ask for his name, and the glance they'd shared when he asked him warned him that there was some significance to the question. There was something in the way Lawrence had asked him, Harry thought, something about the fact that he'd asked him if he had a name, rather than what his name was. There'd been a guarded tone to him, and as he breathed in he caught a strange kind of anticipation in the air.

"No," he decided. "No. I don't have a name."

And with that all hell sprung loose.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Past/present tense mixed up hopefully fixed. Man I need a beta... Major thanks to tati1 for pointing my mistake out!

Everyone seemed to converge on him once. The men who had previously been taking cover in the trees all raced forwards at that, jockeying for a good position from which to observe the young dragon. Eager faces and blatant curiosity met him from all sides and Harry couldn't help but feel a little perturbed with the vaguely longing expressions on many of their faces.

"Do you think-"

"He seems a bit old for harnessing-"

"Remember what Temeraire said, about the Chinese dragons?"

"Look at his feet; he has some growing to do yet!"

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of it all. It was a bit alarming, the way they all seemed to be debating every aspect of his body, from the length of his claws to the amount of muscular definition he showed. He looked down at himself briefly, feeling more than a little bit self-conscious as they avidly analysed as much of him as they could see.

"But what of his wing?"

"He might be useless-"

Harry snorted angrily at that and snapped his head up to glare at the offending individual, who stepped back at the contempt in his gaze.

"Stop this at once!"

The men silenced instantly and stepped away from the curve of Temeraire's tail sheepishly. Laurence frowned at them, hands on his hips as he rebuked them sharply. "I have seen better behaviour from children! By God I should see you all confined to quarters for such nonsense!"

Temeraire ducked his head and glowered at the group, "Indeed. I do say, I thought my crew would have better manners than this. You will frighten him away from the idea of ever accepting a companion at all!"

With that he turned to Harry and looked at him imploringly. "Oh, but you should give great thought to the idea youngling. I cannot bear to think of life without my captain and it is the greatest love I have ever known," Harry was vaguely amused to see Laurence flush with both embarrassment and pride at those words. "Though," And here Temeraire dropped to a whisper, which was still perfectly audible to the men around them Harry feared, "I would greatly appreciate it if you were to choose someone not of my crew… They have been mine for some time you see and I should be very reluctant to see them go, especially after Iskierka took Mister Granby from me." Temeraire sighed sadly.

"Yes, well" Laurence coughed, resting a hand on Temeraire's tail and patting it gently. "Perhaps we should look to his wing before we discuss the matter any further, my friend?" And he looked to the crew. "Keynes!"

The group of young men began to sheepishly move to the sides as a rather irate looking man stormed between them all, hauling a bag over his shoulder. "Terrible business all this," Harry could hear him grumbling, as he practically ignored everyone around him to drop his satchel to the floor and start searching inside it with sharp, tense movements. Harry snorted bemusedly, then blinked as the man threw a bespectacled glare at him before turning back and pulling a pair of gloves he'd just found onto his hands. Laurence had an amused quirk to his lips, an almost-fondness in the way he shook his head slightly and shared a quick glance with Temeraire. The larger dragon dipped his head down beside Harry's, and, in the whisper that was most definitely not a whisper to the men around them, informed Harry that "Keynes is a little blunt in his actions, but he is a good man."

The man in question huffed and rolled his eyes, standing and turning towards Harry. "Well?" He remarked gruffly, "Are you going to stop holding him to yourself like a child's toy or shall I try to examine him from here?"

There was laughter from the men as Temeraire uncurled himself from Harry hurriedly and ducked his head with embarrassment. "I was just trying to reassure him!" He protested, clearly indignant about the concept he would act like a child towards anything. Laurence chuckled softly and rested a hand against the massive leg, patting comfortingly as Temeraire arranged himself to look bored by the whole events.

Keynes ignored the entire event and strode towards Harry, rolling the cuffs on his sleeves up to his elbows as he went. Even with the reassuring warmth of Temeraire nearby and the obvious trust Laurence placed in the man, Harry found himself shifting nervously, wincing at the flare of pain in his dangling wing as it brushed against the ground awkwardly. With the excitement from before dying down, Harry could feel the angry ache in the appendage returning in full-force, and he whimpered softly as he suddenly remembered the potential seriousness of the injury.

It would be rather cruel, he thought, to be turned into a dragon and gifted with flight only to have it taken away in what must be less than a few hours.

The brusque man had reached him and was frowning critically at the joint in question, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he peered down at it. He was muttering to himself, too low for even Harry's sharp ears to hear, and he got the feeling that even he could hear what was being muttered it wouldn't have made much sense to him anyway. With a few more close looks and a nod of decisiveness he turned to face Harry properly, looking up at him with a slight lessening in the crease between his brows. "I'm going to need to touch your wing to make certain of my hypothesis, and I must warn you that it will hurt rather smartly and you must hold yourself still while I examine it. Do you think you will be able to do that?"

Harry blinked at Keynes, a little surprised to have been asked permission before the man continued his observations. There was something familiar about the way he conducted himself, the way he brooked no nonsense and didn't seem to suffer fools lightly. Harry was slightly pleased with the fact that he had asked first before touching him, and quickly braced himself for the pain ahead as he nodded his permission.

The man's hands were surprisingly gentle as they brushed over the swelling joint, but the angry flush of pain followed in their wake regardless. Harry keened unhappily, instinct pulling his other wing tight against his side and almost bringing the other wing with it, before Harry caught a hold of himself. Gritting his teeth he suffered through the clinical pokes and prods, the careful pressure in certain places that gave him no idea about what the man was looking for, except for when the sharper cuts of pain made him hiss through his fangs.

Keynes hummed thoughtfully and brought his hands to rest on his hips. "Well it is as I thought," he announced, the deep frown having eased into the lines of a thoughtful man. "The joint is merely dislocated, fortunate for a dragon as young as you. It should heal quickly and with no permanent harm done, though you will have to stay grounded until I am satisfied it has healed properly. We don't particularly want this to happen again."

A great gust of air blew from Harry's mouth as he looked back at the wing, joy rising in him at the verdict. "So I will be able to fly then?" He murmured, a deep excitement roiling up from his belly, and stupidly his wings attempted to spread with the pleasure of it.

Pain hit him hard and fast. Fire seemed to dance along the bones of his wing and angry nausea growled in his stomach at the utter agony of it. Mewling he sank to the ground, curling himself around the radiating pain and blinking hard in an attempt not to cry in front of these men he didn't even know.

Temeraire immediately stretched his neck over to press the tip of his nose to Harry's cheek in reassurance, while Keynes swore angrily and glared at him. "Moving it will only make things worse child, try to use some common-sense and hold it still until we have it splinted please." And with that and Laurence's sigh of exasperation following him, he turned back to the bag of tools and shoved the gloves from his hands back inside. "We will have to get him back to the covert for the business of setting the joint. We must avoid the risk of the cough getting to him though, so I suggest we land in the clearance just outside."

Laurence nodded, brows creased in a frown as he turned towards the waiting eyes of the dragon head above him. "Dear Temeraire, do you think you could hold him without causing any unnecessary pressure to his wing?"

Temeraire had already been contemplating the issue and made an agreeable sound in the back of his throat. "I am sure I could carry him just fine, he has not too much growth on him yet, but I suggest we bind the wing somehow so that it doesn't shift awkwardly in flight."

Keynes was handing out long straps of fabric to a couple of the men around him and snorted up at Temeraire at that, "Soon you'll be looking to replace me in my position," he called, a casual teasing in the grumble of his voice that intrigued Harry even through the dulling curtain of pain.

It took much careful manoeuvring, some pained squalls from Harry and a lot of anxious questions from the mother-hen-dragon Temeraire, but the men managed, under the barking supervision of Keynes, to rig Harry's wing in such a way that it was pulled flush against his body and held tightly there with the soft straps of material. Harry was panting and vaguely hazy by the end of the struggle, and Keynes rested a palm on his cheek with a slight air of worry.

"We had best be quick," Laurence murmured to him, and Keynes nodded as he stepped back and attached himself to the harness on Temeraire's side. Harry blinked through the clouds of pain, a little confused as to why Temeraire had such an array crisscrossing over his body until he spied Laurence pulling himself up to sit between the curved rises of the massive dragons shoulder blades and latching himself on carefully. With a few shouts and relays of orders, Temeraire reached for Harry gently, and tucked him within the curves of his forearms with Harry curled around his neck, a little startled to discover just how small he was in comparison to the massive bulk of the older dragon.

"Are you settled?" an anxious voice came from behind him, and Harry turned away from his wide-eyed inspection of the great spread of Temeraire's spine and slowly unfolding wings to look at the worried expression on the dragon's face.

Harry wriggled slightly, trying to feel if there's a looseness to Temeraire's tender grasp that might prove less than beneficial in the air, but was quickly convinced the dragon holds him securely. "Yes, I think I should be fine," he told the other dragon gravely, a little bemused by the entire sequence of events.

With a brief nod in his direction, Temeraire swung his head back around and called to Laurence, who responded quickly, and Temeraire's great wings flowed out into the air around them.

Harry almost lost his breath in the sheer majesty of the moment. His position was awkward, but he could still see the sheer expanse of leathery skin that spread between the spines and couldn't quite believe that any creature could surpass the beauty and size of the wings rising powerfully into the air. He could already feel the stir of currents as they swept upwards, great black limbs with dancing patterns of blue ovals ranging along the bottom of the stretched fans.

And then they came flashing down.

Harry wasn't exactly aware of the moment they left the ground, it happened so fast. One moment they were surrounded by trees and the next they were climbing rapidly up into the sky. Even the aching pain in his own wing was forgotten in the exhilaration of the moment, the feeling of air whipping past them as Temeraire angled himself to move forwards rather than soaring any further into the clouds. There was a few whoops of enjoyment from the younger men, the sounds lost as Temeraire flew quickly towards the cluster of buildings in the distance, urgency lending swiftness to his movements even as he kept himself from going too fast for the men to handle. Harry watched it all with glee, a feeling of anticipation spreading through him as he realised that there was a day in his future when he would be able to do this for himself.

It was over too quickly for him, the soft whoosh of air past his place in Temeraire's forelegs warning him to the reversal of the great black wings. Slowing gracefully, the dragon slanted into a glide and stooped towards the open clearing near the round circle of stone buildings that Harry surmised must be the Covert. The landing was less than perfect; Temeraire having to shift Harry carefully and bring his back legs to the ground in a sitting position while trying desperately not to dislodge any of the men clinging to his harness. It was a bit of a muddle, and Harry found himself being placed swiftly off to the side so Temeraire could position himself more delicately. He pulled himself swiftly to his feet, dancing out of the way so the larger dragon could land comfortably.

Men started trickling from Temeraire's back the moment he set down. Harry could hear the gruff shouts of the doctor, sending men scuttling towards the covert as Laurence patted the side of Temeraire's neck and slid down to start bellowing orders at the men left behind. Temeraire shook out the spines of his wings, shudders running down his body as he flexed his muscles, then turned anxiously towards Harry.

"I did not hurt you at all did I?" He asked, peering down at the younger dragon with a critical eye.

Harry blinked up at him once, then shook his head timidly, "No, you were very gentle. And it was rather fun to fly like that!"

Temeraire shot him a confused glance, before nudging his uninjured wing softly, "But you must have flown before? Considering how we found you…" He tilted his head curiously at Harry, sweeping his tail around himself as he tucked his legs gracefully underneath him.

"Uh…" Harry panicked, trying to think up a way to cover for his blunder. "I… Uh… I don't… I don't really remember…"

"Laurence!" Harry nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden bellow, but instantly turned towards it, desperately grateful for the distraction. Keynes was surrounded by a group of men, all eyeing Harry curiously even as they accepted the various instruments the doctor was thrusting at them. "Put that dragon of yours to use and get him to hold the patient down while we brace his wing!"

Laurence shook his head despairingly, a sigh leaving his lips as he turned to smile at the two dragons watching him. "Well, I suppose we had best listen to the good doctor," his grin widened at the derisive snort from the afore-mentioned man, "Youngling, I am aware that this will perhaps not be the most comfortable thing for you to do, but the less you move during the setting of your wing the better the outcome will likely be."

Laurence is right, if understating it more than a little bit. Harry can already feel the instinctive revulsion at being held down by something so much stronger than him curdling in his stomach. It's a stronger sensation than it ever was as a human; tendrils of anger and anxiety spread through his limbs and set his hackles to rising, even as he fought to convince himself it was only sensible. The desperate urge to hiss and snarl at Temeraire surprises him, and he barely suppresses it, a violent shudder running through him even so.

"Well, I should say it is most like that he will show himself to be a heavyweight then," Keynes murmurs critically from nearby, eyeing the way Harry's cruel talons have dug into the soil in his need to control himself. "Doesn't much like the thought of being held down; I'll bet you a pretty penny he turns out to be in a similar weight-class to Temeraire himself."

"Oh but, I would never hurt him, it is simply for his own benefit is it not?" Temeraire's voice comes anxiously, and Harry sighs in relief when it doesn't bring another flare of instinctive rage.

"Imagine if another dragon was to hold you down dear friend?" Laurence calls up at him, patting reassuringly at his side. "Being amongst the largest of your kind I doubt you would take the idea of being held in a submissive position very well."

Temeraire nodded thoughfully, peering at Harry as the younger dragon finally managed to uncurl the tension from his limbs. "I suppose I did not think of that. I should not be very happy to find myself in the same position."

"He is younger than you too," Laurence points out.

It had shocked Harry, the level of control his instincts now held over him. They'd always been dulled and ignorable as a human, other than the desperate need to fight or run when faced with Voldemort, so he'd never quite been aware they could overwhelm him like this. It had been like he didn't even have a choice; the need to show he wasn't weaker than the older dragon had taken over his limbs before he'd even realised what was happening. And Harry knew he was strong; it wasn't like he'd been weak as a human even, but the wiry strength slowly easing in his muscles now was something he'd never quite experienced in his scrawny adolescent body.

He felt fear curdling in his stomach, increasing the nausea that roiled there as he realised the terror was directed at himself.

A gentle stroke of claws over his neck snapped him out of it, wide-eyed and snorting as he stared at Temeraire's concerned expression. "Little one, you need not worry, everyone has instincts." The older dragon made a strange rolling motion with his wings that Harry abruptly realised was the draconic equivalent of a shrug.

Harry couldn't quite contain his laughter at the gesture, peals of grumbling chuckles escaping from his jaws as he fell back onto his haunches, trying desperately to smother them at the disgruntled expression on Temeraire's face. It was so strange, Harry thought, one moment he was about ready to start roaring and hissing like a cat who had just had his tail stepped on, and the next he could barely hold in the sniggers.

Perhaps it was some kind of dragon thing? He wondered, finally getting his giggles to subside.

"Yes well," Keynes grumbled, one eyebrow arched in bemusement. "Perhaps the youngling would be so obliged as to let us get on with this? The longer we leave it the worse it will get," and with that he motioned Temeraire to hold Harry down.

It was easier once he knew it was coming. A moment of the fierce indignation rising up in him, before he managed to throttle it and lower himself to the ground, a small whimper escaping his throat as he realised what was coming up.

Dislocated bones were fairly easy to deal with when you had magic to soften the way after all. He had a feeling the experience wasn't going to be quite as painless without the magical aid.

Temeraire rested one long-clawed front paw just underneath the base of his neck gently, then placed the other just above the start of his tail. A soft hum emitted from the black dragon's throat, almost a purr, soothing Harry's nerves and lulling him into full relaxation. Men started moving around him, cutting off the bands that had bound the injured wing to his side and slowly spreading it out with tender hands and coaxing touches. Harry couldn't move it himself, but the ache and stabs of pain when someone shifted it too quickly was strangely reassuring against the empty dead weight.

He could tell when they had it in position, one man bracing underneath the joint while the other braced on top. A silent instruction seemed to pass through the men, as their hands tensed and Temeraire's paws clasped him tightly.

"I will count to three youngling, and then we will set the wing, understand? You must relax as much as you possibly can," Keynes told him, squatting down to Harry's head where it rested on the ground and staring demandingly into his eyes.

"I… yes," Harry gulped, forcing his muscles to ease from the tense coil they'd formed when the men had readied themselves.

"Good," the doctor nodded and moved away, standing somewhere out of Harry's line of vision. "On three then, one…"

With a snap the wing cracked into place. Harry roared in pain, agony shooting from the tips of the spines in his wings and coalescing in a dark, angry fire in the suddenly horrifically aware joint.

It was only a moment, but Harry was unashamedly grateful when darkness swallowed him away from the pain.

….

WHAT! WHAT IS THIS! AN UPDATE! MADNESS!

Guh, on that note, I am so incredibly sorry for how long this chapter has taken. I know a fair few of you were a bit worried I'd abandoned it, but it was just that life took a rather nasty turn for the worse. I'll try my best not to let this happen again, but I simply can't promise to get chapters out at a regular pace. Hopefully once my dissertation is over I'll have more time!

Major thanks to all the people who've reviewed and stuck it out! You won't believe how amazing reading every one of the reviews made me feel! You guys are wonderful! A special thanks to tati1, who informed me they were rereading the second chapter (seriously, knowing that someone's read it more than once was the best feeling!) and pointing out my colossal mistake with Laurence's name… The best thing is, I'd already been spelling it correctly in the partial draft I had written up for Chap three… So obviously I was having a moment of brain death or something…

Again, I am SO sorry for how long this has taken, but for all of you wonderful people who have read and not given up on me yet, thank you! It means a ridiculous amount to me!

Quick answers to reoccurring questions –

How old is Harry – Pretty young, a few weeks at most. He's got a bit of size to him, but he's still very obviously an infant.

Romance – Potentially. I'm considering a draconic romance in some crazy part of my mind, but we'll see!

Any other questions – Generally any answers I gave to these could be kinda spoilerific, so I'm afraid you'll just have to hold out for those!


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is dedicated to Atropa Haven; HAPPY BIRTHDAY! X3**

It was starting to get a little bit embarrassing, this whole passing out twice in the span of a few hours, Harry though sluggishly, as he drifted towards awareness. He didn't even have the excuse of fighting in a war to make him feel like less of a weakling. Although the knowledge that the relocating of his wing was going to hurt hadn't quite prepared him for the sheer extent of it…

In fact, it wasn't exactly numb now.

With a groan, Harry suddenly found himself completely awake, thrust into consciousness by the deep ache pulsing along the spines of his wing. He stretched absently, wincing as the pain intensified, but enjoying the slow roll of muscle over his shoulder blades.

His shoulder blades. Where his wings were.

Wings. Harry blinked, and sat back abruptly, startling a disgruntled snore out of the huge black dragon sleeping curled around him. He cringed for a moment, worried he'd woken the shifting beast, then relaxed as Temeraire snuffled once and began to snore lightly again.

Harry was glad he could have this moment without the older dragon constantly watching over him. However nice Temeraire's concern was, Harry was fairly sure squalling with glee about the fact he had wings would come across as a little bit strange. Perhaps he could have explained it as relief over the fact that his injured wing felt solid, even carefully wrapped and bandaged tightly to hold it stiff. The pain was agonising and horrible, but also very strangely wonderful.

He could feel it. Could feel the muscles tense and attempt to flex under the bindings, reluctant under the pangs of discomfort but answering to him all the same.

The wave of utter relief brought tears to his eyes. There'd been a part of him that had been completely sure the wing would remain useless, he realised, as he choked back a sob.

A black wing suddenly swept over him, curling round to cradle him gently against the warm expanse of Temeraire's body. Harry blinked through the haze in his eyes, and looked up to find Temeraire's eyes watching him tenderly. The wing nudged him softly, and Harry allowed himself to fall against the warm black scales, the steady rise and fall against him strangely comforting. Temeraire laid his head to the ground, still watching the younger dragon, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"A short time ago," Temeraire murmured, grinning slightly as Harry's head snapped towards him, startled out of his own quiet reverie. "My captain and I were on a voyage, travelling to China. On the way I fell ill, and Keynes ordered Laurence to keep me grounded for the duration," he sighed, a pensive look on his face as he thought through the memory. "It was only for a short time and I still had the use of wings throughout, but I remember feeling like nothing would ever be right with the world again. The fear of never flying again was almost suffocating, a constant pressure in my heart. Only Laurence could calm the terror," he looked at Harry. "I suppose that is some of what a captain is, someone who holds you together when everything else feels like it is falling apart."

The expression in Temeraire's eyes was almost painful for Harry to look at. That feeling of love and devotion, absolute loyalty that spoke of hard battles fought and won in each other's presence; it felt like looking at his friends from his own world, like watching them on tired nights where the prospect of war was hanging over them all, and they still found time to hold each other and feel joy. Harry remembered smiling, remembered hoping for a long time that they would all come out the other side where he could watch them without the tell-tale scent of blood and smoke in the air. It should have felt strange, seeing his best friend's love reflected in the eyes of a dragon, but instead there was a deep sense of longing unfurling inside him, an almost instinctive desire to seek it out for himself. He snuffled softly at the older dragon and Temeraire withdrew from his musings to smile back at him, curling his wing more tightly around Harry.

A low cough startled them both and Harry peeked curiously under the gentle folds of the wing to see Laurence standing nearby, a tender expression on his face as looked at Temeraire. The black dragon huffed back embarrassedly, then pulled his wing away to let Harry uncurl and stretch as Laurence turned to him.

"How are you feeling today, young one?" Laurence called, striding over with an anxious look at the bound wing.

Harry grumbled, then flexed himself carefully, feeling the dull ache spread from his injured joint. "Sore," he summarised briefly, sighing as he settled back against the warm flesh beside him. "Though it doesn't hurt as much as I expected."

Laurence nodded, a pleased expression on his face, "I am glad to hear it, if you feel up to it there are a few people who would like to meet you."

Harry blinked, only just noticing the group of people standing nearby, but at a distance that allowed them some privacy. At their forefront was a woman with a long scar across her face, bearing herself proudly and with the subtle confidence authority lent to a person. She smiled at him when she caught him looking, then strode over, brusque efficiency in every line of her body.

"Hallo there!" She called, a cheerful lilt to her voice, "Pleasure to meet you young one!"

Harry found himself swept along by her exuberance, a grin curling his lips around his teeth before he even realised. "Hello," he answered, pulling himself up to stand before her.

"Oh don't bother yourself with moving little one," she waved one hand, pulling up the legs of her trousers as she sat down on the ground in front of him.

Laurence chuckled fondly and winked at harry conspiratorially. "Let me introduce you, youngling, to Admiral Roland."

Harry blinked at the grinning woman, finding himself a little flummoxed by the revelation of her rank. He hadn't exactly known all that much about the military back in his world, but even he recognised the position as important. She bore her authority well, he could tell, even sitting cross-legged on the dirt.

"Yes, well," she said, flashing an exasperated look at Laurence, "Now that the civilities are past us, I think it best we move on to far more important topics. Such as that of your wing, for instance, I trust it is not too painful?"

"No, ma'am," Harry answered respectfully, ducking his head to his chest shyly.

Roland snorted, "Let's have none of that 'ma'am' nonsense shall we?" her grin widened at the startled expression on Harry's face. "Roland will be quite adequate between us. Now," she clapped her hands together, an expression of delight on her face. "I have to ask young one, how does the idea of having a captain of your own strike you?"

Her straight-forwardness threw him off balance, even as a hot brand of desire lanced through him. The same strange mix of jealousy and want that he'd felt about Temeraire and Laurence's relationship earlier curdled inside him and he found himself answering before he'd even considered it. "It sounds wonderful! Could I have that?"

The rumble in Temeraire's chest beside him matched the laughter from both Roland and Laurence, and Harry felt himself flush with embarrassment. A small part of him wondered if dragon's skin showed a blush in the same obvious way his pale human skin had, before Roland started talking again.

"I imagine you should be able to, though perhaps I should explain the process and difficulties to you before we rush into anything," she placed her palms on her knees, thoughtfully biting her lip. "This is not exactly a common occurrence after all, most dragons your age would already be bonded with their captain already, and would have spent some time in harness and training alongside. Any who had not taken a harness would likely have been transferred to the hatching grounds long ago, but I do not think we have to worry about you growing feral and we need all the dragons we can get. Let us move on with the show then, is there anything you would like to know?"

Harry considered for a moment, not quite sure where to start. He hadn't really had much of a chance to think about the whole situation up until now and faced with events suddenly moving forwards he found himself a little blindsided.

"Perhaps we should tell him about harnessing?" Temeraire offered, smiling at Harry when he shot him a grateful glance.

"Ah yes!" Roland clapped her hands together, nodding her head, "Start with the meat of the matter; good idea! Harnessing is where the prospective captain puts his dragon's very first harness on, usually followed by the captain feeding his dragon until the dragonet is satisfied. The captain will also give his dragon his or her name at this time, creating an unbreakable bond between the two. Normally this would all happen straight out of the shell, but I am sure we can figure out some way to work it for your situation. May I ask, you do not remember being harnessed before?" She glanced at him closely, a penetrating look in her eyes.

If it wasn't for the sudden flash of terror, Harry might have let his instincts reply in the negative straight away. The part of him that was entirely made up of draconic elements roared for him to just accept it, to become a complete being, dragon and companion entwined for the rest of their lives.

But the part of him that was still Harry was horrified by the idea of the harnessing. A little voice in the back of his mind whispered that being bound to someone would remove his own freedom, leaving him stuck following someone else's orders. The harness almost sounded like being collared to him, becoming a slave to the person who would be his captain.

And Harry had already fought in a war for so long. Could he bear to be a part of another one?

But really, maybe he was overthinking this. He was stuck here for the time being, until he figured out what was going on. Everything was moving so quickly. He needed to get some space to breathe and think things through. It wasn't like he actually had to hold to the whole concept of the harnessing, even if the dragon in him was outraged by the idea of lying to his future captain.

Perhaps he could fake the whole thing until he could work out what was going on.

Roland's eyes were beginning to narrow at the time he was taking to answer. Harry was good at adapting to new situations, but the constant need to make a split-second decision in this world was starting to wear him out.

"I don't remember being harnessed," Harry told them, nodding quietly to himself. "I can't remember much of anything before falling."

A snort startled them all. "I am not surprised to hear that," Keynes strode over, inserting himself into the group without any preamble. "I took the chance to examine you last night after you passed out. You look like you've tussled with Napoleon's armies and somehow come out the better."

Roland frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Keynes continued, brows furrowed in thought, "That our young dragonlet has more scrapes and bumps than many of our own dragons after a full skirmish. In particular I am worried about a large gash over the crown of his head. It seems to have healed somewhat but it shows signs of having been re-opened more than once." A flash of anger darkened the doctor's eyes. "The youngling has only seen a few weeks of life at most, but I would say that he has spent almost the entirety of that time being attacked viciously."

A low keening sound reached Harry, and he turned upwards to see Temeraire's ruff standing on end, an unhappy expression on his long face. Harry could feel the muscles behind him bunching and flexing, and he realised Temeraire was just barely holding himself back from wrapping Harry in the cocoon of his wings and shielding him away from the world. A warmth built in Harry's chest as he nudged his head against the dragon's chest, suddenly deciding he had made the right decision to pretend to be completely one of them.

"Does it look like he was abused?" Roland asked quietly, watchful eyes on Harry as he forced himself not to freeze at her question. The majority of his injuries were most likely from the war with Voldemort, he knew, but he had no idea how his body had translated the years spent at the Dursleys. Obviously his dragon form had structured itself as far younger than Harry actually was, but what that actually meant in terms of what he'd experienced through those years hadn't really occurred to him. The wound that Keynes had talked about, the one on his head, sounded like it might be this form's version of the curse scar, though he couldn't be sure until he'd seen it.

Keynes hummed thoughtfully. "The sheer amount would be indicative of potential abuse. But the majority of his injuries are of the sort we would see after two dragons fought each other, so I am inclined to believe that he belonged to a family of dragons and was ousted from the pack for some reason. Oh!" He straightened up, a grin brightening up his face. "I do have some news that will please you though." His grin curled into an almost smug smirk as he turned to Roland. "He's got all the makings of a firebreather in him."

Roland whooped delightedly, at the same time as both Laurence and Temeraire whipped round to look at Harry with something like respect and excitement in their eyes. Instantly he knew this was something important, even though as far as he was aware the majority of dragon breeds could breathe fire. Whenever they'd studied them for care of magical creatures the number of dragons that could breathe fire had greatly outweighed the number of dragons that couldn't, or that had some other kind of magical ability. Dragons were made of magic, needing the connections with the power nodes of the earth that they built up from the moment of their birth.

It was the first time that he really considered that he might be somewhere completely different from his own world. He'd thought he must have been in the past. It wasn't like he'd paid all that much attention in History of Magic, so he'd just assumed that it must have been something he'd missed at some point.

The low curl of fear in his stomach told him that he'd been hoping he was just in the past. Hermione had studied timetravel for a while, during the war, in case it could help them defeat Voldemort, and although he hadn't listened to a lot of it he at least remembered that she'd said it was usually reversible.

But inconsistencies were starting to show up. Things that just didn't make sense when compared with how the future had turned out. At first he'd just assumed he'd missed where they'd talked about dragons being used in some form of army, but he was beginning to suspect he'd never heard of it because it had never happened.

Which meant he was in a whole different world.

He was pretty sure that was meant to be impossible.

There'd been some discussion between the others while he'd been coming to that rather horrifying revelation, but for the life of him Harry couldn't think what they'd been talking about. A part of him wanted to start panicking, but the warrior in him held it together. One thing the war had taught him was that falling apart was a quick way to get yourself killed.

It was a struggle, but he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Just look at it like going into battle, he told himself, allowing the empty calm to sweep over his mind as he felt his limbs relax. Worrying about it didn't help anything; he needed to allow himself to be free to adapt to whatever happened. He could freak out over it all when he was on his own.

Blinking his eyes open he looked up to find Roland and Keynes still talking, reassuring him that they hadn't noticed his preoccupation. A glance to the side found Laurence watching him thoughtfully though, and Harry knew his moment hadn't gone completely unnoticed.

"Well," Roland's voice distracted Laurence, and Harry just managed to hold in his sigh of relief as the man turned away. "We've gotten a little way off topic, but I am even more determined to find you a suitable captain and start you on training after this. Youngling," here she focused directly on Harry, staring at him with conviction in her eyes. "I will not force you to take a captain against your will, but I need you to know how grateful and pleased we would be to have you join us. We are desperate for firebreathers; Britain being so devoid of local species with the ability. It would mean so much for us to have you with us. You would be of such benefit to the war effort! But you must make the decision of your own volition. I don't think Temeraire would allow it to happen any other way even if I wanted to," she glanced up at the furiously nodding dragon, amusement dimpling her unscarred cheek.

"No, I should dare say not," Temeraire replied, eyeing the woman with consternation, "though I would be more than slightly startled to find you pushing a decision upon him." He looked down at Harry, "I would encourage you to at least consider taking a captain though. I have never known anything that quite compares to it," Temeraire looked to Laurence, a soft smile in his eyes that was reflected in the curve of Laurence's lips.

Harry had already made the decision to fit in as best as possible, and he was fully aware that this captain concept was a rather large part of fitting in. But the warm joy that spread through him at the idea still surprised him.

He wondered if the dragons in his world felt this need to bond in the same way.

"Would I get to choose who my captain is?" He asked, looking up at Roland's calm watchfulness.

"Of course!" Temeraire was the one who answered, blinking in apparent surprise that Harry would even ask the question. "I chose Laurence," his shoulders rolled in a shrugging motion, wingtips fluttering with the motion.

"It will have to be from the people on this base," Roland added, shooting a bemused glance at Temeraire. "We will need to keep the knowledge of you as secret as possible while we train you. I doubt we will manage it for long, but if we can keep this quiet until we've got you situated then perhaps we can keep Napoleon from reaching out and taking you from us."

"It would be rather hard to conceal a dragon breathing fire for very long," Keynes nodded, folding his arms. "It would bolster the people to know we have a second firebreather in the ranks, so news of him will spread like wildfire once it leaves the Covert walls."

Harry frowned. "A second firebreather? There's another one then?"

Temeraire shifted and grumbled, "I much prefer you to Iskierka though." He turned to Laurence with an almost plaintive expression on his face. "Do we have to introduce them? What if she scares him off?"

Harry heard Roland stifle a laugh as Laurence frowned up at Temeraire. "He will be fine, Iskierka might take him as a friend, seeing as they are the only two firebreathers in Britain."

Roland snorted, "Bollocks to that Laurence, she will probably be pouting for weeks!" The shocked expression on Laurence's face made Harry laugh as Roland rolled her eyes at him. "He might as well know the truth of it, they will have to train together after all."

Harry giggled as Laurence's face, and Temeraire's frantic nodding motion above him. "I'm sure I can handle this 'Iskierka'" he told them, lips stretched over his teeth in a draconic grin.

"I'm glad to hear it," Roland grinned back at him, slapping her hands on her knees as she began to stand up. "Well young one, I leave it up to you. We will give you some time to think about it, just tell Temeraire when you are ready to tell us what you want."

"I've already decided," Harry interrupted her before she could continue. A startled expression crossed her face, then she nodded solemnly at him, waiting silently for his answer. "I would like to take a captain," he couldn't quite bring himself to say that he would be harnessed, but he decided he would cross that hurdle when it came to it.

A slow smile crept over Roland's face, and Harry suspected that she had been trying to hold it back. Temeraire wasn't quite so polite, and roared with joy as he bounced to his feet, flapping his wings delightedly. "You get to stay with us!" He bellowed, as he nuzzled against the younger dragon and curled himself around Harry, even as one wing spread over to shade Laurence delicately.

Harry felt warmth spread through his chest as the humans laughed at Temeraire's childish glee. Perhaps, if nothing else, if he ended up stuck here, if he had to fight in another war and risk himself all over again, perhaps he might just have found himself a family to help him through it all.

XXXXXX

AN: Okay, this chapter is mostly talky and feely and setting up kinda stuff, so I apologise for those who were hoping for any more action! The good thing is, I'm planning on either the next chapter or the one after including Harry's choice of captain, who IS going to be a character we know from the Temeraire books. Actually, I'm a little worried people might be less than pleased with my choice of captain, but we'll see!

It's been pointed out that some people have had trouble with not realising the human characters are human and not dragons, so I'm gonna go check that out and see if there's a place I can make it a little more obvious. Since I've read the books I hadn't really considered it… I forgot that not everyone will have read them!

AN IMPORTANT POINT.

I've had people ask me not to make this story slash. THERE IS VERY DEFINITELY A POSSIBILITY SLASH WILL HAPPEN. Sorry to those people who don't like it, but I DO. I've actually got a fairly controversial partnership in mind. If you want your own pairing in a story, my best advice is to write it yourself. IF I DO DECIDE TO MAKE IT SLASH/DRAGON PAIRING/HET/TENTACLE MONSTER FROM THE DEEP I WILL POST UP WARNINGS. And I don't write sex of any kind, sorry! I get all embarrassed and flustered and start blushing… For such a sexually open person normally I have the most bizarre aversion to actually writing it… XD

On a pairings note, just to make sure no one is disappointed; TEMERAIRE/HARRY WILL NOT HAPPEN. Sorry, I just love writing Temeraire as an extremely protective brother too much… XD Laurence/Roland is definitely in this story, I adore them together! /

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Thank you to all you wonderful people! Hope you'll stick around for some more!


	5. Chapter 5

Death Flies a Broken Path Chapter Five

Harry sighed tiredly. The latest candidate for captain was standing in front of him, rattling off yet another list of why he would be the perfect captain for Harry. Roland had indeed allowed Harry to make the choice of who his captain would be himself, but he hadn't quite realised just what that would entail. Temeraire had insisted that Harry remained within the clearing with the older dragon, and Keynes had agreed that some time resting and being taken care of would be good for Harry. Roland had insisted that they needed to start searching for Harry's captain right away, considering the longer he went unharnessed the less likely he was to find someone he wanted to be bonded with, and Keynes had allowed her to present Harry with candidates as long as they came to him. Harry had agreed to wait a while before being fed, in hopes of finding a captain who he could share his first (since his apparent loss of memory at least), but it had been several hours of endless interviews and Harry was feeling cranky and starving by this point. The constant parade of aviators walking through the clearing had left him feeling slightly hopeless as well. He'd started out thinking he'd just pick the first one, whoever they were, but almost immediately had changed his mind upon meeting the man. It wasn't anything to do with the poor aviator; from what Harry could tell he'd been a pretty good guy and someone he wouldn't have minded knowing. But the dragon part of him had instantly dismissed the man and, when Harry tried to convince himself it was for the best, had revolted with such disgust and fury that Harry hadn't quite been able to contain the growl rumbling from his throat. The hopeful candidate had looked crest-fallen at that response, even as Laurence had carefully pulled him away from the clearing. Harry had tried to go after them out of guilt, to reassure the poor guy that it wasn't really anything to do with him, but Temeraire had swept his wing in the way and forced Harry to face him.

"If it is not meant to be, then it will not happen," Temeraire had told him quietly, compassion in his eyes. "He knows that. There are not enough dragons for every aviator to be partnered with one, we are far more rare than them. He will be sad that he has lost this chance, but eventually he will understand that it would not have been any better if you chose him without the real connection."

Harry had stared up at Temeraire, the two sides of himself warring briefly, the human side of still torn up because of the look of utter disappointment and unhappiness the first candidate had worn when he left. But even the human in him had to admit that if his dragon side had reacted with so much revulsion then it probably wouldn't have been a good idea to try and force himself to accept him as his captain.

After that it had just been one random person after another. There'd been a couple of women mixed in amongst the myriad of men, few enough that Harry suspected it was unusual for them to be partnered with a dragon, but each and every single one of them had been met with that outbreak of complete and utter aversion that left him struggling to calmly turn them down. After about the eighth person walking in and listing off their various traits and benefits, something had settled inside of him, a blank sureness that he wasn't going to be picking his captain from any of the people that came to brag about their good points until he gently sent them away. He knew they only did it because it was what they thought they had to do, but he saw in the disapproving frown on Laurence's face that it hadn't been the way Temeraire and he had found each other, and he found himself wanting that brilliant connection that Temeraire had spoken of. Even as he forced himself to remember that he only needed someone he could pretend to be bonded with until he'd managed to sort everything out, the part of him that quietly mourned the deaths of so many friends cried out for at least some part of it to be real, for him to at least like the person he would have to stay and work with for the foreseeable future.

So as candidate after candidate came pacing through with tales of their great deeds and why Harry should definitely want to partner with them, he found himself growing steadily more frustrated and despairing of ever finding someone he could use to satisfy both parts of himself. He thought someone would at least come across as tolerable to the dragon instincts inside of him, but apparently it wasn't going to be quite that easy.

Feeling his extreme reaction to those who were trying to approach him as potential captains had made him wonder about why he didn't feel that way about the others who had approached him before. Laurence certainly didn't provoke that kind of response, in fact Harry found himself trusting the man with ease, in a way he hadn't really done in years. He wasn't sure why, but he suspected it had something to do with Temeraire and the way the older dragon had taken him under his wing. The dragon in Harry seemed to recognise that the person Temeraire had chosen as his companion was someone that deserved trust and respect. He had a feeling this extended to the other members of Temeraire's crew as well. Roland was a slightly different matter, but he suspected that if he asked, he'd find out that she was already bonded to a dragon too. He'd noticed a few other people lingering on the outskirts of the clearing, watching curiously but never actually approaching, and they'd elicited the same lack of response that Admiral Roland was. It was possible that other captains had come to have a look at this exciting new arrival, but had been told to keep away from him in case they spread this strange illness that was sweeping the coverts to him. Temeraire had explained the situation to him in between visits, an anxious expression on his face as he frantically reassured Harry that it would be okay and people were searching for a cure and he was sure Harry wouldn't get it anyway and even if he did Temeraire would take care of him and and and…

Harry had burst into laughter, struggling to bring himself under control for long enough to inform a very disgruntled Temeraire that he was taking it seriously, but didn't see any point in worrying himself about something he very likely couldn't help.

He'd just noticed Laurence flashing him another of those searching looks before Temeraire had stretched one claw out and gently ticked him under the ribs, sending Harry into squealing fits of giggles. That had lasted until Harry had accidentally slipped over onto his bound wing, roaring with sudden pain that had Temeraire snatching him into his chest and nuzzling him comfortingly. That had been how the next candidate had found them, and she, as Harry could smell her true gender under the masculine clothing (and wasn't that a thrill, being able to tell so much about a person from one quick sniff) had simply let him see her before leaving, responding to his lack of positive response.

Temeraire was a bit like a gigantic mother hen at times, Harry thought tiredly, as the still rambling candidate finally figured out that a complete lack of response wasn't exactly a positive reaction and huffed to himself before stalking away. His dragon side just rumbled in relief, quickly followed by his stomach snarling for some actual relief.

Quite frankly, Harry was going to find himself some damn food at this rate, never mind what Roland might be hoping for from his first feeding.

Laurence suddenly cleared his throat. Harry swung his head around to the frowning man, only realising he was growling low in his throat when Laurence raised an eyebrow at him and Temeraire shifted in the background. Harry relaxed his throat with a sigh, slumping unhappily to the ground with a low keen. He curled himself into a ball, tucking his tail to his nose, unharmed wing stretched over his head as he grumpily decided that if they weren't going to feed him then he would just ignore them until they gave up.

He was vaguely aware of how childish he was being, but considering he was basically a baby dragon anyway, he felt justified in indulging his misery for a short time. And as much as these people had been kind to him, and had treated him fairly, the dull clawing of hunger was starting to remind him of times spent at the Dursley's, only getting scraps of food when they deigned to gift him with it.

Temeraire and Laurence sighed in conjunction, and Harry just knew they were sharing one of those significant glances between them over his head. His cranky mood was only worsened by the reminder of what he was probably never going to have, and he pulled himself in even tighter, ignoring the protest of his bound wing.

He could just hear Laurence moving out of the clearing and calling out to someone, before Temeraire's wing laid itself gently across his shoulders. He stiffened in anticipation of Temeraire trying to talk him out of his mood, then slowly relaxed as Temeraire settled beside him and remained silent, the quiet rumble of his breathe strangely soothing.

They remained like that for a few minutes, before the smell of blood and flesh reached Harry's nose.

He reacted instantly, rearing up in a strange mix of desire and terror. His stomach roared approvingly even as his mind remembered that the scent of blood usually meant the death of someone he'd known and loved. All the muscles in his body went rigid, tail lashing frantically once, twice, then stilling in one long line as he tried to work his vastly enhanced senses and figure out the exact source of the nauseatingly enticing smell.

Once he'd settled his mind enough to focus, he quickly realised that his bodies instinctual action was one he could trust, and that the blood had a distinctly animalistic texture to it. He wasn't entirely sure how he knew that, but the knowledge was so certain that he found the tenseness of his body changing into tremors of anticipation.

Temeraire was chuckling above him, and a small part of his mind sighed with relief that the older dragon had apparently only thought his reaction was one of hunger, instead of anything else.

As he watched, several members of Temeraire's crew came lumbering into the clearing, huge baskets of meat clasped between them as they stumbled towards the waiting dragons.

At the sight of juicy red meat, obviously only slaughtered recently, Harry found his human reaction of revulsion swiftly overlaid by his dragon's roar of delight. He was bounding towards the group before he even realised, launching himself at one of the hastily dropped baskets, distantly aware of yelps and people scattering around him as he drew several pieces of the flesh into his mouth at once, throwing his head back as he swallowed them with only the barest amount of chewing.

He nearly howled with delight at the first warm slide of it down his throat, quickly shoving his nose into the basket and gulping down more of the raw meat as his unbound wing flared out in pleasure.

It was several minutes before he slowed, nearing the end of the various baskets that had placed around him. His belly felt full and heavy, and he found himself purring as he lazily chewed on the last few pieces of meat. With the desperate hunger satisfied, he slowly became aware of the young children sitting nearby with buckets of clear and soapy water.

He swung his head round to one of them, blinking as he recognised her as female, even as she blinked back at him.

"Are you feeling better now?" She asked him, standing up and swiping dust off her trousers with a quick sweep of her hands. "Anything else we can get you?"

She waited earnestly, glowering at the other young boys until they stood too, all staring at him in a mixture of fascination and partially concealed longing. A couple of them wrinkled their noses at the spray of gore Harry could feel slowly drying on his muzzle, and he self-consciously licked his tongue over his lips in an attempt to get some of it off.

"I wouldn't mind some water, or somewhere I could take a bath or something?" He rumbled lowly, feeling growing embarrassment as he realised what kind of picture he must have made when he had devoured the slabs of meat.

She grinned at him, and gestured at the buckets of water. "We thought you might be looking forward to getting clean! I'm Cadet Emily Roland, one of Temeraire's runners. That's Cadet Dyer, Ensign Allen and Ensign Harley," she pointed to each of them in turn, and they nodded their heads to him when they were introduced. "The captain told us to take care of anything you wanted, so just let us know what you would like!"

The embarrassment only worsened when he realised the buckets of rags and water meant they intended to wash him. He didn't like feeling like an invalid, and he would be more than capable of washing himself if he was given a large enough pool.

"I…" He shook his head, trying to remind himself that he could ask for what he wanted. It wasn't like they were keeping him in prison here, as much as he felt trapped at times. He was pretty sure that they were only treating him the way they were because they thought of him as something precious, something to protect and care for.

As a normal child dragon, he probably would have loved the attention. It was the adult human inside of him that resented being treated like a baby.

"Could I just… Is there anywhere I could wash myself? And maybe have five minutes alone? I just… I'm kinda tired…"

The men were scowling, and shaking their heads as if they were going to turn him down. But Harry was looking at Emily, and he could see the sympathy flash across her face. It made sense, he thought, that the one who could most understand his need for a moment of privacy was a girl just reaching puberty living among men.

She nodded at him. "I will ask the captain if it's allowed. I believe it should be, but he is the captain." She shrugged and ran towards the other side of the clearing, where Laurence and Temeraire had been talking quietly while Harry was wolfing down his food.

The other men looked a bit disgruntled at not getting to wash him down. Harry had a feeling they had been hoping it would be their chance to try and impress him, but he knew his complete lack of response meant it simply wasn't going to happen.

He turned away from them, watching Emily hurry over to where both Laurence and Temeraire were curiously glancing over. She reached them and started gesturing towards Harry, telling them something that was just out of Harry's hearing range. He saw Laurence frown, and begin to shake his head before Temeraire ducked down and murmured something to them both. Laurence's expression turned thoughtful, and then he nodded.

Relief swept through Harry as Emily grinned and ran back towards them, happily waving at Harry.

"Temeraire convinced the captain that a few minutes alone might be good for you!" She told him as she slowed to a stop in front of him, smiling as Harry's unbound wing fluttered with glee. He bounded up and around her, thrilled at the way she laughed and spun with him.

"Come on you silly thing!" She smirked at him, patting one hand against his side as he crowed with glee.

He followed her out of the clearing and around the side of the Covert, blankly ignoring the grumbling men they left behind. Temeraire had called once for them to be careful, and Harry had simply waved his wing in reply, bouncing happily around Emily and stopping to sniff random plants along the way.

The sharp increase in his sense was amazing, he mused, as he scented the various overlays of dragons and humans throughout the forest. Some he recognised, some were only vaguely familiar from the random men who'd visited him during the day and some he had no idea who they belonged to at all. It was exciting, exploring all the little advantages that came with being a dragon, and Harry was pretty sure that whatever else happened, he was going to enjoy being a dragon for the time being.

The forest petered out, revealing a large lake of water surrounded by rather picturesque looking sandy banks. He roared with joy, then leapt his way over in long, sinuous strides that ate up the ground below him. He barely had time to notice the shifting of soil beneath him before he was launching himself into the water, splashing happily away as he groaned and sunk his head in, drinking his fill.

Vaguely he could hear Emily laughing at the shore as he dived briefly under and shot back up, shaking his whole body in one long movement.

"Do you want me to give you a few minutes?" She called, cupping her hands around her mouth.

"Please!" He yelled back, waving a talon at her in gratitude. She nodded and headed back into the forest, leaving him alone for the first time in what felt like ages, even if it had only been less than a day.

He watched her leave, feeling a curl of tension inside him. He hadn't actually thought of it when he'd first entered the lake, but this was the first time he would get a chance to actually look at himself properly, without anyone wondering why he was so fascinated by himself.

Peering down at the water as the ripples slowed, he finally found out exactly what he looked like.

He was a deep green colour, though he'd already known that. He hadn't known the way it darkened into a brilliant turquoise blue along the ridges standing out from his neck and spine, as well as across the leather folds in his wings and at the very tips of the delicately pointed spines. Dark, glistening black stripes zigzagged across the leathery folds, as well as across his spine, interspersing the turquoise spikes with pitch balck ones. His face was angular, sloping elegantly backwards and joining seamlessly to his throat and long, arching neck. The scales on his body were thicker than Temeraire's, and with a small tap of his talons he realised they were harder too, though he wasn't sure why, but he didn't have the ruff and whiskers that Temeraire had. In fact, his body was fairly smooth all over, other than the cruelly curved spikes running the entire length of his spine, growing shorter until they disappeared at the tip of his tail. He spread his good wing, noting that the spines were arranged differently to Temeraire's, with Harry's wings baring one less. Briefly he wondered if that was unusual, before he sighed deeply and focused on the angry gash on the top of his head, running in the exact same pattern his curse scar had. It had definitely re-opened at some point, which he suspected was during the fall from the skies.

And that was a whole question to itself, he frowned, paddling his legs back towards the shore. He curled himself up just below the tideline, finding a small pleasure in the way the water lapped gently against his body. His mouth stretched wide in a long yawn as he gazed contemplatively over the water, trying to sort out the various thoughts in his head. Surprisingly, forefront amongst them all was the amused realisation that he resembled the extinct dragons of old England, the ones Hagrid had nearly cried over when he explained how they'd been wiped out years ago. Malfoy had sniggered at the half-giant with his bunch of Slytherin cronies, Harry remembered, feeling a nostalgic smile curve his lips as he remembered Hermione glowering at them as she ranted about boys and their lack of sensitivity. Ron had pointed out that he and Harry were boys too, and Hermione had raised one eyebrow and remarked that they weren't exactly the best argument, starting up yet another argument between the two of them as Harry had ignored the pair and daydreamed about flying on wings instead of a broomstick.

He sighed wearily as he realised he would have his chance to find out soon, without his friends there beside him to enjoy it with him.

All the business of the day had kept him from getting too melancholy. Temeraire had broken him out of it earlier, and kept him from returning to it, but alone he found himself wondering at the weird mix of kindness and cruelty finding himself in this world had been. He had been given a new chance at life, and the lack of ache in his scar told him Voldemort was far from here. This place was a chance to live again, find new friends and carve out a fresh place for himself away from the broken world his home had turned into.

But it came with its own prices. Turning into a dragon was a blessing and a curse at the same time. He'd been gifted with so much extra strength and advantages, but it meant that he was tied to these people as he figured out who he was and the limitations he had. Not that being among these people was a bad thing, they all seemed like such wonderful people, but Harry was already making friends, and Temeraire seemed to have adopted him without a moments thought.

And they were in a war. He could be making all these new relationships only to feel that horrible desolation when they fell in battle all over again.

He wasn't quite sure he was strong enough to face that kind of loss all over again.

Quiet footsteps distracted him, and he turned his head slowly, expecting to find Emily approaching to take him back. Instead, a full-grown man emerged from between the trees, stopping in surprise as he registered the young dragon watching him with an assessing eye.

Harry had almost bristled as he first saw the man, expecting him to be yet another candidate stealing a private moment to try and persuade him to take him as captain, but the startled reaction had reassured him that the man was as surprised to see him as Harry was, and he simply watched the man curiously. There was something much more rugged about him than with the aviators. They held a hastily pulled together, but vaguely kept air to them, as if they had lived the majority of their lives in places where they had constant access to food and baths. This man was rangy and strong-looking, with a shadow of bristle over his chin and throat that suggested several days without shaving. He stood with a slight slump to his shoulders, as if he carried a burden upon his back, but the bunch of his muscles and weathered tone of his complexion hinted at many days spent out in the wilderness. There was a healthy glow to his skin, the dark tone of a man who spent his days outside, and the black length of his hair was pulled roughly into a tail, accentuating his vaguely oriental features.

Harry wasn't sure why, but he instantly felt himself take a liking to the man, even as he shook off his surprise and raised an eyebrow at the young dragon.

"Hallo there," he called, voice projecting across the short expanse. He spoke with an upperclass accent, Harry noted, as he tilted his head. "Would you mind me joining you for a moment?"

"Of course not," Harry replied, shifting slightly in the water and extending his wing in invitation. "I wouldn't mind a bit of company," and somehow, when it came to this man, he found he wouldn't actually mind, even though he'd been so desperate for privacy just a few minutes ago.

The man grinned at him and strode over, confidence in his step. "My name is Tharkay, may I inquire as to yours?"

A strange sadness came over Harry, and he ducked his head. "I don't actually have one yet," he mumbled, unsure as to why he felt so suddenly down at the thought.

Tharkay blinked as he sat down just out of reach of the water. "I hope you don't mind me saying, but you seem a little old to be without a name in this place," he frowned, taking a knife and a piece of wood out of his pockets, holding them loosely in his hands as he looked over at Harry.

Harry sighed. "So I've been told," he grumbled, eyeing Tharkay's items with curiosity. "Although it's not for lack of trying," he rolled his eyes. "I've barely been left alone all day. People just keep trying to get me to choose them as my captain," he barely registered the slight whine to his voice, as Tharkay grinned at him.

"Yes well, you appear to be a fine young specimen of a dragon. I am not surprised that they all wish to claim you as their own."

Harry scowled. "You make it sound like I'm just a pet they want to own."

With a shrug Tharkay turned his gaze to the wood in his hand, and carefully set his knife to it with the other. "Some of them see it that way I think. There are many good captains out there of course, but for each good one there is a bad one, who just longs for the honour of having a dragon beside him so he can brag about it to his friends."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, finding himself pleased to hear someone admit that the bond between dragon and captain wasn't always perfect. "Laurence seems like one of the good ones though."

Tharkay glanced up at him briefly, then continued whittling away. "Oh so you have met Laurence and Temeraire then? Yes, they certainly seem to be a shining example of how the relationship between captain and dragon can be. They have had their difficult times, but they have always pulled through it together." He blew some of the dust from the piece of wood. "They respect and love each other, that much is obvious. It is enough to make a man jealous at times, that he could not have a companionship quite like that."

Harry stared at Tharkay, feeling something welling up from deep inside of him. His dragon side crooned, trying to pull him towards Tharkay in an almost irresistible way.

It whispered to him that this was a man he could enjoy the rest of his life with, bonded as dragon and captain, standing beside each other through everything the world might throw at him.

"I… You could have that, if you want." Harry said suddenly, unable to stop himself.

Tharkay frowned up at him. "Friendships like that are not that easy to find in this world, you know," he told Harry, clearly not quite understanding what he meant.

"No," Harry swallowed, nervousness drying his mouth. "No, I mean, you could name me, if you wanted."

Tharkay stared at him, wood and knife hanging limply in his hands as his mouth slowly gaped open. Harry could just see that the carving he'd been making was a dragon, and he suspected that it would have resembled him in the end. "I…" Tharkay gulped, eyes wide with something akin to terror. "I… You would… Do you even realise what you are asking of me?" He whispered, desperation flooding his voice.

The human in Harry sunk, recognising that this was not what Tharkay had expected, or wanted out of their conversation. Vaguely he realised that Tharkay might not want this, might reject him, but the dragon reared to the surface, deciding then and there that it would accept no other.

Harry braced himself, straightening his shoulders as he lifted his head proudly and looked straight into Tharkay's eyes. "Yes." He intoned, feeling something deep and instinctual uncurling inside him. "I am asking you to be my captain."

XXXX

SO I TOTALLY HAD SOMEONE ELSE IN MIND FOR HARRY'S CAPTAIN. Then someone guessed Tharkay and suddenly I thought, "well, hell, why on earth hadn't I considered him? He's PERFECT.".

And well, yes, this happened! XD

EVIL CLIFF HANGER AHOY! 3

Also, the romance for this has FINALLY been decided. There will be a draconic romance, but there will also be SLASH, but not in the same relationship. CONFUSING? YES. XD I'm looking forward to explaining it all!

Concerning Crucible of Gold: I HAVEN'T READ IT. ANYONE WHO SPOILS IT WILL BE RANTED AT. SO THERE. THAT IS TOTALLY THREATENING. HUSH. We only have the ebook version over here in England, and I kinda want to get the hardback when it comes out (if it comes out… I still haven't seen a release date anywhere for it. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong) so I've been holding out. I might just break down and buy both at this rate. Oh dear…

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, especially those wonderful people who have been with me from the very beginning! All of you make me so happy every time I read your comments and guesses and questions! *hugs* Thank you you wonderful lot!


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